


Quixotic

by queermartins



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, but it's like one sentence, dorky allison, fluff-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queermartins/pseuds/queermartins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Allison makes terrible jokes and Lydia is 1000% done with waiting for Allison to make the first move, so she does it herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quixotic

**Author's Note:**

> Based on kandinskin's tags on an Allydia post I saw on tumblr.

The first time Allison does it, it’s an accident. Well, kind of. She just wanted to break the silence between them - her and Lydia - it had been there all day, but now it was starting to become awkward, sitting at a cramped booth in an even more cramped diner down the street from the mall. Or maybe, it was just Allison who was starting to feel awkward because she can’t deal with silence - not with Lydia.

“What’s the difference between roast beef and pea soup?” she asks, not really expecting an answer, but she does get one in the form of Lydia’s slight head tilt, quirking eyebrows daring her to continue “You can roast beef,” Allison leans forward a little, raises her eyebrows and smirks slightly “but you can’t pea soup.” she finishes and dissolves into a short fit of giggles at herself. She stops abruptly when she sees Lydia’s expression, her head is cocked slightly to the left, eyebrows both raised and knitted together - it’s her practiced (and perfected) ‘did you really just say that?’ expression. Allison hangs her head to look and the table, fidgets with the material of her fraying jeans, but she’s brought out of it by the sound of Lydia’s laughter, and so Allison begins to laugh again too.

The second time, it’s because she’s uncomfortable. Sitting at the same booth, in the same diner that she and Lydia had visited a week ago. It’s the same. Except it’s not, not really, because now Jackson’s here and he and Lydia are making out, his tongue shoved thoroughly down Lydia’s throat in a goodbye gesture. Allison looks anywhere - everywhere- but at the scene in front of her.

“Does that bother you?” Lydia asks, tentatively, well for Lydia anyway.  
  
Allison frowns, because yes, it bothers her. It bothers her because she’s had an enormous crush on Lydia since her first day at Beacon Hills, where Lydia approached _her_ first, complemented her jacket and declared that they were now best friends - like it was fact - the simplest thing in the world to her. Mostly, it bothers her because she can’t pluck up the courage to do anything about it, she’s an _Argent_ for christ’s sake. Allison just shrugs sheepishly

“What’s it called when a dinosaur crashes his car?” no reply, “Tyrannosaurus wrecks”

This time, Lydia doesn’t laugh. She just scrunches her nose, smiles at Allison after a while has passed.

  
Lydia and Jackson don’t make out in front of her after that. She assumes it’s because Lydia could sense how uncomfortable it actually made her, it’s nice. And it makes Allison’s crush grow an inexplicable amount.

Lydia and Jackson break up a few weeks (and countless terrible jokes) later and Lydia comes over to Allison’s and convinces her to go shopping to help her ‘get over it’, Allison agrees though she’s not entirely convinced Lydia needs to get over it, because she seems fine, but then again, Lydia always seems fine and they both know that that’s just not true.

She lets Lydia drive to the mall, she stares out of the window and watches the world float by, it relaxes her. Until she feels a hand - slightly colder than her own - on top of hers where it rests on her knee. She looks up at Lydia, Lydia looks at her, smiling. She has to pause for a moment, to check that her heart is still beating. When she’s sure it is, “What kind of bees make milk?” Lydia quirks her eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything. “boobees!” and her laughter comes out before she can stop it, erupting from the pit of her stomach. She realises that she always makes these jokes when she feels uncomfortable, when she doesn’t know what to say, and in the place of something else, actions. She does it when she maintains eye contact with Lydia for too long; when she feels the need to brush a stray strand of hair from Lydia’s face, when the silence has gone on for too long and all Allison wants to do is kiss Lydia.

Lydia still doesn’t laugh, doesn’t say anything, but Allison sees the slight upward curl of her mouth and that makes hers curl, too.

She does it again that night. They’re in the changing rooms, Allison trying on dresses because Lydia insisted that she needs new clothes and Allison agreeing eventually because Lydia always gets what she wants. She slips on the dress, and she has to admit, she does actually like it - with it’s pretty but not too overbearing floral patterns - it comes just above her knees and she reaches around back to tuck the tag in but “Uhh...Lydia??” she calls out, hesitantly

“Hmm?” Lydia answers as she steps inside the changing room

“I can’t reach the tag...can you..?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” Lydia stutters, uncharacteristic.

Allison watches Lydia in the mirror. Lydia has to lean on her tip-toes slightly to reach, her hair brushes Allison’s shoulder blades, it tickles. And then Lydia reaches for the tag, folds it into the inside of the dress, the backs of her fingertips brushing Allison’s spine and they linger there for a moment - the skin around Lydia’s fingers burst into goosebumps - little minuscule volcanoes on the surface of her skin that give away how she feels, and the erratic beating of her heart. Lydia notices it, too, she looks up and meets her eyes in the mirror, “Allison-” She begins with her breath tickling the backs of Allison’s shoulders and the beginning of her neck

“Why did the elephants get kicked out of the public pool?” She doesn’t wait for an answer,”Because they kept dropping their trunks.”

Lydia smirks at her before turning on her heels and exiting the changing room tossing a (not so) casual “That dress looks great on you.” over her shoulder on the way.

Allison drives home, well she drives Lydia home. The journey is silent. Every time Allison opens her mouth to say something, she snaps it closed again. She can feel Lydia’s eyes boring into the side of her head, but she ignores it and pretends to concentrate on the road, even though they both know that she could drive it with her eyes closed now.

Finally Allison pulls up outside of Lydia’s house and unclips her seatbelt, ready to spew the speech she’d been formulating the entire ride there, she turns to face Lydia

“Why didn’t the melons get married?” She says, and frowns because those were not the words she had on the tip of her tongue, ready to come out. Lydia rolls her eyes, takes a deep breath and leans forward, pressing her lips to Allison’s, lightly at first but then a little firmer - more sure of herself - a few seconds later.

“What did the photon say when the hotel clerk asked if he needed any help with his luggage?” Lydia asks, clearly she was expecting an answer, but Allison is too dumbfounded to give one “No thanks, I’m traveling light.” she finishes and then she starts to giggle uncontrollably which snaps Allison out of her daze because _Lydia Martin does not giggle_. She finds herself giggling manically too, because of course Lydia would find that funny.

A while later, after the giggles have subsided, still sitting in Allison’s car Lydia speaks up “I couldn’t let you make another joke when I know you wanted to kiss me,” Allison’s face falls “I wanted you to kiss me too, but a girl can only wait for so long, Allison.” She smirks. Allison blows a puff of hot air out of her nose, not quite scoffing, but not far off either, when Lydia asks what’s so funny she says

“Of course you would make a science joke.” Lydia rolls her eyes but Allison doesn't miss the smile on her face as she presses their lips together again.


End file.
